Life in Technicolor
by chezchuckles
Summary: a Dash Companion. 3rd in the Life series.
1. Chapter 1

**Life in Technicolor**

* * *

_Every road is a ray of light. . ._  
_Time only can lead you on_  
_Still it's such a beautiful night_  
_Oh love don't let me go_

_-Life in Technicolor II, Coldplay_

* * *

"You sure about this?" she asks, hands filled with her squirmy son, feels someone in the crowd stumble into her back. She rocks forward on her toes; Castle catches her.

When she really studies him, he doesn't look entirely certain about it.

But he only smiles at her and takes Dashiell from her arms, bouncing the kid to try and quiet him. Alexis and Martha have gone back to the car to put away their registration kits, the tshirt, and free stuff being handed out before the race. The free stuff that Castle just kept taking, like the big kid he is.

It's a huge crowd. Dash is over-stimulated by all the people; he babbles away in Castle's ear. She steps closer and lays her hand on the boy's back, still worries about Rick.

"Castle, really, you don't have to do the half marathon. Not the whole thing anyway. You just had surgery."

"Kate, I think if I'm cleared for sex, I'm cleared for a measly thirteen point one miles."

She can feel herself blushing, raises her eyebrow at him. "You wanna keep saying words like that in front of your son?"

"What? Sex? Or thirteen point one miles? Because both are dirty-"

She socks him in the arm and he laughs at her, jostling Dash.

"I just mean, you know. You haven't done anything that requires endurance, and I-"

He grumbles at her. "No endurance? Well, thanks, babe. Way to trample my ego right before a race that I'm certain you're going to win anyway-"

She buries her face against his shoulder, mortified, feels Dashiell tugging on her hair and has to pull away to untangle his fingers. Castle is laughing at her, at least there's that, and he helps get the kid's sticky hands out of her hair. What did the kid have for breakfast?

"I didn't mean that. Jeez, Castle. You have plenty of - oh my word - I'm not talking about this while we're in the middle of a crowd of thousands of people."

He grins at her, entirely too proud of himself, ducks his head to press a quick kiss to her mouth. She pushes at him, purses her lips at his still-smiling face.

"I just want you to take it easy. Thirteen miles is a long run. You didn't even get a chance to train with me."

"Naw, I'll be fine. After that whole disappearing act you pulled last week, where I nearly had a heart attack worrying, and then nearly had a heart attack from all the fun we had after that - well, if that didn't kill me-"

She grins back at him, remembers half-dancing with him in the living room and the way he felt against her, a little desperate, a lot relieved, and the sound of the music coming from the speakers. "You said I killed you."

"You did. True. You killed me. I don't think I've ever done-"

She catches his lips with her fingers, raising an eyebrow and then glancing around at the crowd. "Hush."

He kisses her palm, his arm looping around her waist. She lifts on her tennis-shoe-clad toes and steals his mouth for a moment, thoroughly indulging.

When she sinks back down, she sees Martha over his shoulder, flirting with Dash, so she steps back. Alexis comes up between her and Castle, hooks her arm around Kate's neck and kisses her cheek. "Good luck, guys." She moves to do the same to her father, grinning at them both.

Dash reaches for her, so she takes him. Martha is giving Castle last minute directions about where she and Alexis will stand. "The 5K mark - it has a finish line, or so they tell me. And don't forget the photograph. The MS Charity has brought in a photographer-"

Castle shoots Kate a look, but she nods at him. "Part of the deal, Castle. I told you. Whole family at the end of the race."

"Whole family?" he says.

"The photo will be sold to the paper, most likely, or whichever magazine has the highest bid. Then the money goes straight back to the charity."

"You're okay with Dash being in the photo?" He sounds surprised.

She nods at him, catches his hand and squeezes. "It's time. Remember? We give them a little and they'll stay off our backs. Keeps them polite at least."

His thumb strokes over the back of her fingers. "All right. Okay. Up to you."

Martha is tugging on Alexis, bringing her away. "You two need to get to the start line. Race starts in two minutes."

Kate smiles at her, then back over at Castle. "Come on, stud. Time to race."

* * *

"You okay?" she asks again, her gait smooth and even as she runs beside him.

"Fine."

"Seriously, if you start to hurt, or even just cramp-"

"Stop babying me," he mutters, reaching out to grip her elbow in a tight, reminding squeeze.

"I still don't think you should be doing this so soon after surgery," she says, turning her head to look at him. She's pulled ahead of him on the jogging path, but Castle doesn't stretch to match her. He _did_ just have surgery (ha - it was weeks ago now). But he'll set the pace, thank you very much.

Kate drops back a little, evidently realizing she's running too fast; he lets go of her elbow and keeps his mouth shut. He can't keep the rhythm of his breathing if he's talking too.

The streets of New York have been blocked off for their route; the crowd of runners is huge, actually, bigger than he expected. It really has been a long time since he's done enough with the MS charity. He's glad now that Kate pushed him to do this.

"If you don't stop wincing, Castle, I'm gonna cut this short."

He laughs, shakes his head to get his rhythm back. "Yeah. No. I'm fine. Thinking about. How long it took me to get involved. Shoulda done it sooner."

She studies him for a moment, but seems to accept that. "All right. Well, the 5K finish line is just up there. So if you're-"

"I'm doing the half, Kate."

She shuts up, finally, and he finds his pace again. He runs better if he doesn't talk, runs easier if she's not distracting him.

Course, she should probably run behind him so he's not constantly watching the way her legs move, the stretch of her running shorts over her ass, the triangle of dark sweat at her lower back.

Jeez, so not fair.

He's never gonna make it.

* * *

He leans over on his hands and knees, and Kate comes jogging back to him, grinning, the little tease. How mean. Flaunting her athletic prowess in his face.

"You okay there, Castle?"

He holds up a finger, nods at her. "Good, good. Be right - right there."

She's still bouncing on her toes to keep her heart rate up. Really not fair. She got to train for this while he recovered from the reversal surgery.

"Just two more miles, Castle. You can do it. You've made it eleven. Two more is nothing."

He nods again, licks his dry lips, heaves himself upright. "Yeah."

"Dash is at the finish line. He wants to see Daddy make it."

"That's a low blow," he groans. When he made it to the 5K marker, and he was fine, and feeling good, he paused only long enough to tell Alexis and his mother to take Dash to the finish line, that he would run the rest of the race with ease.

Yeah, right. Ease? Who was he kidding?

"Come on, Daddy. Let's go," she murmurs, suddenly near him, tugging on his arm.

"Okay, okay. Two more miles."

"That's right. Two more miles."

He puts one foot in front of the other, another step, finds himself half-jogging, stumbling after her.

And then he is actually jogging, running, right at her side. Like before. Like always.

* * *

Kate takes the last step over the finish line, checking her time on one of the digital clocks displayed at either side, then looks back over her shoulder to find Castle.

He's right on her heels, nearly trips over her. She scoots forward, walking quickly to keep the lactic acid from building up in her muscles, letting her body cool down. Castle has a fingertip at her back, guiding her, and she shakes him off, feeling sweaty and too close, too much.

She wipes at her forehead and suddenly the world tilts, swaying. She stumbles and throws her arms out. Castle catches her, hauls her against his damp tshirt; she pushes at him, feels numbness tingling in her fingers, her toes.

"Let me-" she mumbles, sinks down.

Castle is hauling her back up, half-carrying her over to the side. She feels her feet trip in his even as her body shuts down, can't distinguish voices, registers a cool hand against her cheek even as her vision fades.

She blinks and brings herself back, realizes Castle has pushed her head between her knees. She's sitting on the curb, Castle over her to block her body from the runners still coming through.

"Kate? Kate?"

She raises a hand at him, won't lift her head just yet. She feels the blackness hovering just on the horizon, doesn't want to make any sudden movements that might bring it back.

"Mother went to get you a soda. Some sugar will help."

"Yeah," she murmurs, presses her hand to her forehead.

"Didn't you eat breakfast?"

"I did," she says shortly. Can't think about the scrambled eggs and toast right now. She presses her hand to her mouth, blinks back the sway of the ground.

"Alexis, can you-"

And suddenly her senses return - the boy reaching for her and grunting because he can't get at his mother, Castle's knee at her shoulder that props her up, Alexis saying something about water to her father.

She lifts her head cautiously, blinks up at them. "I'm okay."

Alexis is trying to keep Dash away, keep him from squirming down.

Castle offers her a hand and she takes it slowly, wrapping her fingers around his, letting him pull her up. She sways, but she's okay. It's okay.

"What was that about?" he says quietly.

She glances up and is grateful to see that he's got an appropriate amount of mild concern. Good. No freaking out. No _let's get you to a hospital right now._ Good. She can - she can breathe easier knowing he's steady.

"Just got dizzy," she says back finally. "I'm okay. I need some sugar-"

At that moment, Martha buzzes back to them, the crowd of runners and sepctators parting for her without effort. She holds a Pepsi and a slice of pizza, a look of distaste on her face.

But it's heavensent. Kate grabs the pizza and crams it into her mouth, gulping the first bite without chewing very well, choking around the cheese that slides down her throat. Castle lifts an eyebrow but pops the top on the soda, hands it over. She washes down the pizza with the burning fizz.

After a second, the sugar hits her and she immediately feels better, less like jelly, and she straightens up, chews more slowly, drinks the soda after every bite. Energy buzzes in her limbs.

Alexis is watching her, Martha is too, but Castle is giving her space, reaching out for their son.

"Ewww," Dashiell drawls, arching his body away from his father's chest. "Sooty. Sooty. Dose, Daddy."

Kate grins. "Gross is right. We're both all sweaty." She feels good. She's fine. It was just - not enough calories for thirteen miles.

Castle holds Dash away a little bit, looks down at her with a raised eyebrow, asking all he needs to ask with just that gesture.

She nods back, tosses the crust of the pizza into a nearby barrel trash can.

"We need to go to the administration tent for that photograph," she says.

"Lead the way," he answers, nodding back at her.

He looks at ease, but she feels his fingertips at her hip as they thread their way through the crowd.

She nearly fainted. She's never done that before.

* * *

"Sooo dose," Dashiell says happily in her ear. Kate grins at him, tries not to hold him too closely, kisses his cheek.

"We're very gross, but it'll dry. Can you hang until then?"

"Hane, hane, hane. Momma."

"Yeah, that." She juggles him against her, but Castle reaches over and takes him. "Thanks."

"Eat your banana," he says, nodding at her plate.

She peels the banana, stomach fluttering at the thought of more food. But Castle's right. Her electrolytes are probably out of whack. She bought Luna vitamin bars and ate them before she went for training runs, but she mistakenly thought the protein and calories in her breakfast would be enough this morning.

Won't make that mistake again. She still doesn't feel exactly right.

They're all sitting in the admin tent with the race event coordinator and a couple of volunteers. Castle has been shaking hands and smiling and exchanging race stories with the others, as if he's done this every year and is a pro at it. The photographer caught some casual conversation, grouped them together for a family shot, and then went on his way. Easy. And Kate's actually looking forward to seeing the photo come out on page six.

"No, Dash," she jerks her banana away from his questing fingers. He sticks out his bottom lip and grunts, lunging for it.

Castle laughs and turns back to her, trying to corral Dashiell. "Lighten up, wild man. I'll get you your own banana."

Kate shoves the last of it into her mouth, swallows past the dry lump in her throat. She takes a moment to sip at the bottle of water at her feet, twists the top back on it.

"I'll go get it," Alexis says, hopping up and then disappearing. Her helpfulness has been on overload since Kate had to pick her up from a party in Spanish Harlem a few months ago.

She nudges Castle's shoulder, puts a hand on Martha's arm to include his mother. "Should we talk to her again? She's still trying to make up for things."

Castle sighs. "This is how Alexis works out her guilty conscience."

Martha waves a hand. "Richard's right. Just let her work through it. She'll relax again. Besides, might be good to keep her humble for a while."

Kate bites her bottom lip, glancing at the crowd where Alexis disappeared. "But it feels like she's trying to prove herself. I don't like that." She cuts her eyes to Castle, tries to read in his gaze what he really thinks.

Yeah, some concern lurks there, just below the surface. She's seen it enough times directed at herself to know what it is.

"I'm going to talk to her," Kate says finally. "I don't want her to think she's got to prove herself . . . worthy or something."

That thing in Castle's eyes clears like haze burned off in the sun; Kate nods to herself, determined now. She and Alexis are good; she's certain of that. This will just be a reminder between the two of them that if Alexis gets to call her mom, then Kate gets to love her.

No matter what.

Alexis slips back into the tent at that moment, handing the banana to her father. Dashiell perks up, grabbing for it.

"Want Is-sis," he grunts, curling the banana to his chest and leaning out for his sister.

Kate sees the flare in Alexis's eyes, feels grateful to her son for somehow doing the exact right thing this time. Including his sister.

Castle lets Dash go to Alexis, leans back in his chair and puts his arm around Kate's shoulders, his fingertips stroking the skin just under the sleeve of her running shirt.

She smiles to herself, presses into his side despite the sweat, the ripe smell of them both.

She turns her head and gives him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Love you," she whispers as she pulls back.

Castle turns, giving her a look that says everything she ever needs said.

And then he says it.

"Love you too, Kate."


	2. Chapter 2

**Life in Technicolor**

* * *

Kate smooths her hands down her dress, bites her lips as she checks herself in the bathroom mirror. No cheetos stains as far as she can see. It was perhaps a mistake to let the wild man head butt her after she got dressed. And then climb into her arms for a good night kiss. But she can't say no to his bedtime request.

She turns once more, eyeing the dress critically. She's worn it before - to the book launch party for the first Nikki Heat. She's wearing it now for a boost of confidence, and so she won't forget how far she's come.

It fits tighter than she remembered, actually. But it looks good-

"Gorgeous."

She glances over her shoulder at him, lifting an eyebrow. He joins her at the bathroom mirror, slides his arm at her waist, nuzzling her cheek with his nose, his breath warm against her skin.

Kate hums and turns into him. He's already dressed, charcoal pinstripe jacket, dark slacks. He smells so good - rich and dark and distinctive. Castle. She kisses his adam's apple and lets her teeth nip at his skin.

He kisses her, a deep drink of her mouth, and then pulls back to run his hands up and down her back, smiling at her.

In these heels, she's practically at his eye level. She likes that.

"I know this dress," he murmurs, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah?" Was he paying that much attention?

"First release party. Right? I saw you across the room reading the dedication at the front of the book. Breath-taking."

Her stomach flips; she steps in a little closer, rests her hand against his tie, her fingers smoothing it down. She can't keep her hands to herself lately.

He dips a finger down to the long strand of pearls hanging around her neck, traces the V of her dress with a light touch. He looks - adoring. It makes her unhinged, makes her need him in the sharpest way possible.

Kate bumps into him, nose to his neck as she bends around his body, her fingers sliding under his jacket to clutch the plum dress shirt, feel the heat of his sides through the fabric.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Not much time."

She bares her teeth, brings his skin into her mouth, licks at the spot.

"Kate," he grunts, a breathless growl in his voice that she likes. Needs. Right now. "Dash is - out there."

She struggles to focus. "Alone?"

"Yeah. Alexis hasn't gotten back yet."

Darn. She - she just wants to press her skin against his, heat to heat. She releases his shirt, smooths it, but can't help running her hands up to his shoulders and tangling her fingers at his neck.

"Don't muss my hair," he laughs. "We need to leave soon. I don't have time to do it all over again."

She scratches her fingers through the fine hair at his neck. He looks a little overwhelmed by all the touching. She is too, actually. "This level of hair-perfection takes time?"

"Exactly."

She grins back at him, gives herself permission to lean in and lightly brush her lips against his. He smells so good. So very good. She could draw it around her like a coat and curl up in it.

Jeez, what is wrong with her?

* * *

Sitting in the back of the town car on the way to his limited engagement release party, Kate realizes that the dress is definitely tighter than it was last time.

Well. She's also older, and she's had a kid. So-

Oh. Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

Kate presses her cheek against the cool window, tries to think. The city flickering by outside sets her stomach to flipping, and she's not sure if it's nerves or something more. Something like knowledge.

She has to think. _Establish the timeline, Beckett._

She feels his hand rove over her knee, the squeeze of his fingers, and that intense rush of need crests over her again, obliterating all thought.

She wants him. She wishes they had time before this thing, but maybe if they can slip out for a few minutes - that's all it'll take at this point - maybe they can find a coat closet or something.

Do they have coat closets?

Anything. She is so not picky right now.

And she really can't wait until they get home to-

His fingers stroke the inside of her knee, aimless patterns, like he's not even thinking about it, not even paying attention. Just touching her because she's_ there_.

She can still smell that cologne or aftershave or whatever it is. Brisk, crisp, delicious. She wants to put her tongue to his neck and feel him swallow back his desire.

Kate shifts her hips. It would be entirely unfair and quite possibly cruel to do that to him right now. _She_ can hide her arousal. Mostly. He can't.

Just telling him she wants to find a solitary moment at this party-

Yeah, also mean.

She'll keep it to herself for now.

But wow. Wow, she wants him. Him, just him, always him.

Castle.

Her writer.

* * *

It's only when they get to the open bar that it hits her again - the thing she was steadfastly ignoring. Or getting distracted from. He just smells so good.

She shakes her head at the wine he holds out and asks the bartender for seltzer water instead.

Castle raises an eyebrow, but she doesn't like to be too loose for these things. She has a tendency to be too quiet, too sleepy, too reserved when she drinks and that doesn't do well at his events. They interpret it as haughtiness, as rudeness, and then Alexis spends the next week snatching the paper out of her hands and allowing her only limited internet access. These society people all want her to make nice, smile widely, cater to the crowd.

She doesn't mind it, but this is her first official event as his wife, and not just as the mother of his son (cart before the horse maybe?), and she really doesn't want it to go wrong.

"You good?" he murmurs.

"Good. Just want to stay sharp. I'm on duty," she says.

He laughs softly at that, raises his glass to her and knocks it back. He returns the glass to the bartender and asks for a soda instead.

"Castle, you don't have to-"

"Partners, Kate. If you're on duty, so am I."

"You know I mean - not as a cop. Just tonight. Here."

"I know what you mean," he smiles, dipping his hand lower to caress her back through the dress.

She sucks in a breath as heat flickers through her again, tries to remember that there are about two hundred people here who definitely do not want to see her jump her husband, and only a small handful who do (and they entirely for gossip purposes).

"Well," she says, breathless, holding his gaze. "Let's - mingle."

He eyes her, calculating, but lets it go. "You coming with me or setting off on your own?"

"Which do you prefer?" she asks. Last time - first and only time so far - Dash was only a month old, Castle was still proposing over and over (she kept saying no), and she used the opportunity to test herself. See how it might work out with them. It was only for a few hours; she couldn't leave Dash that long.

She spent the whole time in conversation with a columnist from the New Yorker and a man who sold ideas, fascinated, and decided Castle's world suited her quite well. But she didn't spend that time with _him_. And now she knows he might have liked her to.

"Castle?" she prompts, nudging his hip. "Which do you prefer?"

He's looking at her now like he's remembering that event over a year ago, remembering how it went, how she acted, comparing it to this version of her.

Castle nods, slides his hand down to briefly curl his fingers through hers. "Start off with me and then if we get separated-?"

She softens her eyes with effort, sees that it's worked by the way he adores her back. "Sounds good, Rick."

He pulls her hand up to his mouth, briefly caresses her knuckles with his lips, still giving her that soft, barely there smile.

She rubs her thumb across his bottom lip, surprising herself, her heart too tender.

He smiles wider. "Come on. I see one of my publishers throwing his back out trying to get my attention."

* * *

She is so very good at this.

Kate smirks to herself, pleased at how easily she's got them wrapped around her finger, but the next moment finds her rooted to the parquet floor, stunned by the delicious fingers of arousal trailing down her body.

And all he did was turn and smile at her.

It feels like he's touching her, but he's just _looking_ at her.

Where is that coat closet?

A frisson of awareness passes through his eyes; he reaches out and takes her hand, hesitant, askance on his face. "You okay?"

She nods, light-headed with it. She hasn't fainted since the race, and this is probably just-

Oh, wait. Wait. Hold on. Don't jump ahead, Kate Beckett.

"I've got to talk to the publicist, Kate. You mind?"

She does; she minds. She wants his hand to drift lower, curl at her hip and pull her in close. And then she wants to rock against his-

She shakes her head, wonders who in the hell has doused her with Love Potion Number Nine. This is ridiculous.

"Oh-kay," he drawls. "I'm gonna be right over there. And then I've got that little presentation with the winners, the limited press interviews-"

"Yeah," she husks, blinks against the rough arousal pooling in her belly.

Her be-

Jeez. That's what this is. Has to be. Right? Though it wasn't like this before. Entirely the opposite, really. And-

Castle leans in and presses a kiss to her mouth, quick and light, not enough, and then turns to walk away.

She realizes her fingers are trailing across his waist as he moves, jerks her hand back.

Her stomach is fluttering, chest tight, eyes only for him.

This is not at all how it was before.

* * *

Kate laughs and shakes her head at him, ducks away as he tries to lay one on her for the photographer. The fans titter around them, and when Castle has turned back, faking hurt, she leans in and snags the corner of his mouth in a kiss.

She's got her eyes closed, but she sees a flash go off, doesn't even care.

Castle's hand squeezes at her hip. She pulls back to see the fan winners gaping at them. Little more display than usual. From her at least. She gives Castle a reassuring smile and his eyes light up, happy with her.

It takes so little. She needs to remember that. Small concessions mean the world to him, and it does nothing to her to kiss him like that in front of the fans, the crowd, the page six reporter.

She finds his hand, takes it with a gentle squeeze, and then presses it against her thigh. His finger lifts and strokes the side of her leg, his eyes on her for a moment.

The two of them are surrounded by an interesting group of women who won the drawing on the fan site. Three are older than Castle, two are Kate's age, and the other two she can't tell. One of these mentions her granddaughter just then, but Kate thinks she must have had her children young, because she still looks good. Still, it puts her at least in her forties.

The strange thing is that these fans asked her to come over. It wasn't Castle who insisted - he thought to save her from it, actually, and she was making a tour of the room when his publicist came to find her. The women all want to watch them together, want to ask her questions about living with the writer, and, humbly, they want to know her.

They care. It's bizarre and unlike anything she expected, but they do really care about her and Castle, about Dashiell and Alexis as well, though the look on Rick's face when one of them mentions his kids-

Well, it's Kate's fault for broaching the subject, unintentionally, and so she keeps her side pressed against his as the woman finishes her comment. How cute Dash is, how the boy looks like Kate, but seems to act like his father. Rick grows stiff next to Kate, defensive maybe, but she smiles and eases them through it, back to safer subjects.

The winners are each presented with an advanced copy of the book; two crack it open right there and devour the first page, beaming. Kate can't fault them - she did the same when Castle gave it to her earlier in the week. The book about their experience with the Butcher.

She ended up not wanting a word taken out, nothing removed. It was printed just as he wrote it that week, intimate and violent and tender at the same time.

She catches the scent of his aftershave when he steps in front of her to hand the last book out to the woman with the indeterminate age. Castle shifts back to her side and she turns her head to breathe him in.

Musk, sweat, the tang of the soda he's drinking, the taste of his skin in the scent of him. She finds him watching her and she can't even take her eyes off him. He strokes a finger at her thigh and she forces herself to turn back to the women still gushing over the book.

Kate's surprised to find that she actually likes this - the whole thing. Especially talking with his fans. It's a controlled setting, their security is keeping a close eye, and these are the fans who took the time to dress up and go through the background check and answer all the trivia questions on the site.

They care. And Kate finds herself caring too.

She won't sign the books though. She can't bring herself to take that on - it's not her place, not her words. The woman with the grandchild looks like she might beg, but Kate shakes her head, lets Castle do his thing, charm them all. Kate finds herself smiling as he signs, watching him as if she has actually had a part to play in this.

When security leads the fans away, when the photographer has disappeared and she doesn't think any reporters are around, she leans in and kisses the side of his neck, below his ear.

He wraps an arm around her waist and her stomach flutters. His fingers brush alongside her belly button and she has to close her eyes.

"You been smelling me, Beckett?" he murmurs, his mouth turned to her ear.

She shivers at the gravel in his voice, the switch from pleasant charm to intimate seduction. "Yeah," she admits, and slides her nose against his cheek.

"You're very physical tonight," he growls at her. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Oh yes," she says, surprised at how intensely she wants him, _wants_ him. It shouldn't be a surprise; it's been like this all night.

She slides her hand between them, her palm against her stomach, her fingers brushing his belt. He grunts and takes a step back, a warning in his eyes that she likes. Dark and dangerous and so good.

"Any more obligations?" she says quietly.

He shakes his head.

She grins, sucks in a deep breath that is almost her undoing.

"Take me home, Castle."

This is not how it was before, but if it's - if it is, if they are - then she really likes it.

And he will too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Life in Technicolor**

* * *

She manages to keep her hands to herself in the town car only because she's thinking about yogurt and walnuts. Nutrient rich foods.

Wait. Just.

_Not yet, Kate._

Castle pokes her in the side. "Where's your mind at?"

She startles, glances over at him. "Baseball stats."

He laughs. "Ah, I see. That bad, huh?"

She sighs heavily. "That bad. Because if Alexis is awake when we get home, I don't want to scar her for life."

Castle leans back, but his hand rests on her knee, thumb circling. She jiggles her knee to dislodge him - doesn't work - and she shoots him a look.

"You are not helping," she mutters.

"You're sexy when you're trying not to be," he grins, but he does remove his hand.

When they get to their building, the car pulls up out front with a smooth, rolling stop. Kate gets out first, pauses on the sidewalk until Castle stands next to her. His hand finds hers, fingers interlacing naturally, and her heart pounds harder.

In the elevator, their sides pressed close, he keeps stroking his thumb over the back of her thigh, high up, making her body hum.

At their door Castle fits the key into the lock, and she prays fervently for Alexis to be in bed already, finds herself with her eyes closed and her hand pressed to her abdomen. Castle laughs in her ear, thinking - oh - she knows what he's thinking - and then he ushers her inside. She opens her eyes.

It's dim, the only light coming from over the stove. Everyone asleep then.

Castle is already tugging on his tie, heading for the hallway. She pulls back on his hand, untangles their fingers. "I"m gonna check on the kids," she murmurs.

He throws her a half-smile over his shoulder and she realizes what she's said.

"You know Alexis is leaving in September for Chicago," he says, sliding his tie from around his collar.

She brushes off his concern. "I know. And when she's in Chicago at school, and not here with us, then I won't worry about her."

He lifts his eyebrow, balls up his tie and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh yeah? You won't?"

She shrugs her shoulders, reaches up to unpin her hair. "She's a smart girl. I'm glad she's transferring - that was a good decision."

Castle gives her a look, a smirk playing on his face. "Better for her there, yeah. Doesn't mean the worry really lessens."

"Hush. You go change. Let me check on my kids."

Kate turns away from his soft chuckling, heads for the stairs as she pulls her hair down, scratches at her scalp. In the hallway, she pauses to take off her shoes, leaves them in the floor, drops the pins in the soles so she can go barefoot.

She taps on Alexis's door and then pushes inside. The girl is asleep on top of her covers, her laptop on the bed. Kate heads over, takes the computer and places it on the floor. Alexis doesn't stir, so Kate waits until the girl's chest rises and falls with her breathing then heads back out.

Dashiell's door is only pulled to, not closed all the way, so she slips in quietly and stays still in the darkness for a moment. When she gets her night vision, Kate heads for the crib, squats down in front of the bars. She pulls down the bumper so she can look in on him.

Dash is lying on his stomach, mouth open, lashes dark against his cheeks. She snakes her fingers through the bars, turning her wrist, and then lightly strokes her son's forehead, brushing through the curls.

He snuffles in his sleep, rubs his face against the crib sheets, and she pulls her hand back so that she won't wake him.

Her little boy. His father's heart, her looks, and something all his own that rises up, stubborn and life-affirming and full tilt. It still catches her off guard sometimes, how much she loves him. How good this is.

Kate stands up, realizes she's tucked her arm up under her chest, finds herself stroking her fingers over her stomach, around and around. She lets herself imagine, just for a moment. What it might be like. How it could be this time, knowing beforehand how good it is, knowing for sure that she can do it, that this - all of this - that it works. They work.

"What's taking so long?"

She startles, spinning around towards the door, sees Castle standing in the threshold in just a white tshirt and dress pants, heels on the wooden floor at the hall, bare toes curling on the room's carpet. She hurries towards him, pushes him out of Dash's room.

"Don't wake him," she murmurs, pulling the door behind her.

Castle catches her around the waist, tugs until she's pressed against him, his smile deep, eyes only for her. When he smiles like that, she feels proud to have put it on his face, pleased she has anything to do with it, making him happy.

"You were gone too long," he murmurs, dipping his head to touch her lips with his.

She closes her eyes and lifts up on her toes to help, slides her arms up around his neck, tastes his mouth. Mm, tastes as good as he smells. She breaks to smile at him, hovering there, lifting her eyes to his. "Love you."

"Yeah? Show me."

She laughs, spreads her fingers at his neck and tugs him back. "Last time we started up here, you nearly broke your neck, and mine, trying kiss me and get down the stairs. This time - you go down first, Castle."

His grin widens, turns a little sloppy and definitely cute. "Yeah," he says fondly. "I did. Good point, Beckett. But you have to keep your hands to yourself until we get to safety. Otherwise, I can't be held accountable."

She can't help going up on her toes to smudge that mouth with a heated kiss.

* * *

Kate runs a shaky hand through her hair, damp with sweat, and presses her palm to her forehead. She's strangely buzzed, like she's stuck a fork in an outlet and now electricity vibrates within her blood.

After a round like that, she's usually the one floating in and out, knocking his hands away, trying to recover. But it seems to have only amped her up even more. She lies back against the pillow and shifts her knee wider to keep Castle's dead weight from cutting off her circulation.

Yeah. This is different. She'll have to call the doctor and make an appointment. Now she's - she's got an idea and it won't let go of her and every time he said her name in bed tonight, her whole body turned out, flipped, her stomach and heart on strings that madly and wildly jerked - like puppets. His voice at the controls.

Jeez. If this keeps up, it's going to be interesting.

She strokes the side of his face as he lies curled around her, his mouth at her ribs. Asleep already, which is good. She can finally think, finally settle down and concentrate.

A little. It's like she's had five cups of strong black coffee. And then, oh - his mouth, yeah, the feel of his warm breath slow against her skin, in, and out-

Okay, concentrate.

Time to think. Establish the timeline.

She's never been entirely regular-

Well, obviously not, right? Dashiell was a complete surprise. Castle was the one who noticed.

Kate grins in the darkness.

This time? This time she's the one who's noticed.

If it's really - if it's - okay, best to stay calm, be rational, don't count chickens, all that.

Her hand trails from his neck to her stomach, the flutter now entirely different. Her mouth goes dry while her neck, her palms suddenly become moist. Wow. She - oh -

Oh, she could be -

She could be pregnant. She probably is.

Kate blinks past silly tears and stares up at the ceiling, Castle's heavy warmth along her side. She draws her other arm up around his shoulders, finds herself squirming down so that they are face to face now, legs tangled.

He mumbles something, arms tightening around her, some kind of awareness coming back to him. She swipes at the damp on her cheeks, fixes her face for when he wakes.

His eyes open.

It takes him a moment of just staring before he seems to recognize her, where they are, what's going on.

"Kate," he sighs softly, then tilts forward to give her a lazy, endearing kiss.

She closes her eyes, knows she looks emotional and surprised and dreamy, if that's even possible. His fingers stroke along her shoulder heavily.

"Passed out on you," he mutters. "That's usually your job."

She huffs. "Go to sleep, Rick."

He lifts an eyebrow, all query but no energy to really ask. She strokes the hair off his forehead, the back of her fingers skimming his temple, his cheek, catching at his jaw.

"Love you," he murmurs into her palm, eyes slipping shut.

"Yeah, you showed me," she whispers.

He grunts a laugh, eyes flickering open just to make that connection with her, and then he's falling asleep, body slack against her own.

She needs to set up a doctor's appointment and confirm it first, and then she'll think of some grand gesture, some way to tell him-

She curls around him, a knee coming up, arms at his neck and shoulders, and buries her face against his chest, taking a long breath in.

If she's pregnant again, this will be her chance. She's going to make it up to him.

She hums at the scent of him, kisses his skin. This time it's going to be _fun._

* * *

The case is boring; of course, he's texting her and distracting her all morning too. But she's got a doctor's appointment in ten minutes, and then she took the rest of the afternoon off, and so she has to get this going. Make a breakthrough on the case. She doesn't want to be thinking about the case while she's-

Yeah.

Kate taps her fingers over the manilla folder, staring at the white board and its details. It's so run of the mill. It should be easy. She shouldn't be struggling with it.

"Espo," she calls out, doesn't even turn her head.

He saunters up, arms crossed low over his chest, giving her a look. She frowns at the board. "I have to leave in ten minutes-"

"Yeah. We all know," he grouses.

Okay, so she's anxious about it.

"Spend time with Lover Boy, we got it. But this-"

She waves him off. "Wait. First. I want you to call the airline. Get a pasenger manifest. See if there was any cargo, any strange suitcases. Ask around."

"But that flight has nothing to do with-"

"Do it anyway, Espo. I'm grasping at straws here."

"Maybe you should ask the writer."

She gives him a glare just as Ryan rounds the corner, looking excited. She gave him another equally long-shot task, but he might have actually found something.

"Castle. You were right," he says, skidding to a halt in front of them.

She narrows her eyes at him even as Esposito feeds the birds with Ryan, the two of them so smug. "Very funny."

"Hey, you were the one with the crackpot theory."

"Which I was right about?" she prods.

"Yeah. I got financials on the school teacher. Looks fishy on a cursory glance. You might be right."

She can't help the pressed-lip smirk of satisfaction on her face as she rises to her feet. She is _not_ going to admit that the theory was actually half Castle's idea. She'll claim credit. They don't need any more ammunition.

"All right then. I'm out of here. You guys keep going like this-"

"We got it," Esposito says, standing his ground for a moment, staring her down. She nods, her gratitude shining in her eyes. They're good boys.

Holy crap, her hormones are screwy. Castle's every look throws her into orbit and she's getting maudlin over _Ryan and Esposito._

"Go show Writer Boy what he's missing," Esposito says, laughing, and every trace of sentimental feeling disappears.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Kate steps out of her doctor's building and into the brilliant sunlight, sliding on her sunglasses and collecting her bearings.

Her phone rings at that moment and she slips it out of her pocket, smiles too widely at his picture ID. When she answers, she tries to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"Hey, stud."

"Wow, case must be closed."

She hums to keep from laughing, knowing it would be too breathless and too - too joyful. "Close. I'm on my way to meet you."

"Oh good. Good. I'm just now leaving. Should see you there in fifteen."

"Yeah," she says, all kinds of words on the tip of her tongue that she has to - _must_ - keep back. She's is so not telling him over the phone. No, she has a plan. Grand gesture.

"Kate?" he queries, sounding suspicious. Sounding like he knows something's not right.

Except it's so very right. "Hm?"

"Do you know if we have orange juice at home?"

Orange juice? _Oh, Castle, you have no clue, do you?_

"I need to get some groceries on the way back. Dash ate the last of the goldfish. But I'm thinking we ran out of orange juice; I just can't remember."

She laughs at the incongruity of their thoughts, hears him huffing at the other end. "Sorry. I don't know, babe. I think-"

"Did you just call me babe?"

She startles to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "No."

"Shut the front door. You did. I heard it."

"Hush your mouth," she mutters, moving again, absurdly grateful for his teasing because it brings her back down to earth a little. Keeps her from spilling the news right here and now, so inappropriately, so not according to plan.

He's laughing - hard - and trying to catch his breath. Or so it sounds. Kate rolls her eyes and steps to the curb as she checks the time. She needs to hail a taxi if she's going to get all the way over there to meet him in fifteen.

"I don't know about the orange juice," she restates. "But I gotta go. Can't walk and talk."

"Obviously not. Walking and talking makes you use terms of endearment you ardently profess to _hate_-"

"Shut up," she says again, a secret smile on her lips as she raises her hand. "I'm hanging up on you now."

A cab veers out of traffic and stops just past her. She disconnects the call and slides into the back seat.

"East 84th and 1st, please."

* * *

She gets to the bookstore before Castle, waits on the sidewalk below the apartment building that houses The Brazen Head. She was nervous and excited and jittery the whole cab ride here, but now that she's out in the sunlight again and waiting on him, a strange peace has settled over her, a breeze cooling her cheeks.

Everything is good. It's never perfect - nothing ever is - but it feels so close to perfect right in this moment, perfect because of all the things they've struggled through and fought through, their issues, and yet they've still managed to get here. This is exactly what she always thought she could never have, and it feels so very good to have it.

She's surprised by the hands at her waist, but she turns and practically vaults into him, hugging Castle hard around the neck. He oofs and laughs, hugging her back, and she presses her face into his shoulder and inhales, long and hard.

He smells so good. Today it's sun-sweat and deodorant and the faint overlay of crisp, air-conditioned conference rooms. He was in meetings this morning about the press rollout for the book.

Kate lets him go, schools her features when she looks at him.

It wants to bubble up out of her, flood them both. She has to stop it.

"What's with you?" he laughs again, and lifts his hand to stroke a wisp of her hair behind her ear. She has it in a loose bun and suddenly she wants him to grab it, yank the rubber band out of her hair, let it tumble down so he can run his hands-

Oh whew. Stop. Stop. Get a grip, Kate.

"Just. Playing hookey," she says with a grin.

"I get Rebel Kate today?" he murmurs, ducking in for a kiss but releasing her quickly, letting go. She usually hates to be touched so much, hates to be the thing someone else clings to, but she could totally go for some manhandling right now.

Wow. This is going to be different. So very different.

"Come on, let's go upstairs," she says, nudging him.

"Taken out of context, that sounds dirty."

She kinda wishes it were.

* * *

Michael greets them, just as he did a couple months ago, brings them inside his apartment turned bookstore. Kate eases past the two of them, talking like old friends, and heads for the relative solitude of the Russian literature.

Castle won't follow her there. She's guaranteed a chance to get herself together.

Okay, time to figure out what to get him. Her purchases today will have a theme - of course - but she doesn't want it to be too obvious. She wants to make him work for it. Kate hasn't done any research ahead of time as far as books go; she wants to let the moment decide.

And she's pretty sure their moment's not in the Russian literature.

When she's certain that Castle and Michael have wandered off to some new treasure, both of them eagerly discussing the history of the literary salon, Kate slides out from the nook of familiar titles and slips back to the children's section.

Once she's there, the enormity of it overwhelms her. She stands helplessly before the picture books, chapter books, board books, can't even bring her hand to the stacks tilting precariously in front of the first bookcase.

Kate swallows hard and turns her back on it, heads randomly in the opposite direction. She just needs a moment to get her bearings.

She finds herself in the biographies, skimming her fingers along the beginning of the alphabet, soothed by their staid spines. She skips over the war generals, the presidents, the historical figures, searching for something she can't name.

_Baby girl._

Her stomach rolls at the words and she closes her eyes a moment, realizing on some level she's still not - it's still surreal. It's so different this time around. So - good. She didn't feel this at peace about being pregnant until - well, until Dash was placed in her arms and she held him for the first time.

Looking back on it, she can see how fiercely she loved Dash before he was ever born, she can admit that there really was never any other outcome for them but the one they're in now. But when she was _in_ it, none of that was clear.

It's so clear now.

Her thumb catches on the edge of a book and she absent-mindedly pulls it out: Cash. Oh, an autobiography of Johnny Cash. She opens it and scans the first few pages, recalling suddenly a line from his song: _Love is a burning thing and it makes a fiery ring._

Oh it is. It is. At this moment, nothing has been truer.

Kate flips through to the photographs in the middle, runs her fingers over the image of June Carter and Johnny Cash, the way he's wrapped around her, his face almost hidden as he looks at her, while her joy beams from her whole beautiful face as she withstands Johnny's embrace. A burning thing.

This is the theme for today; this is what they've done. Love.

Kate curls the book against her chest, her heart pounding against it, music to music, and lifts her head, scanning the rows and stacks and columns and shelves of books.

Books are the best way to talk to him when she has no words of her own.

_Hey, baby girl._


	4. Chapter 4

**Life in Technicolor**

* * *

**A/N**: Check out my ebook **Fences** here - fences1saybooks . pressbooks . com/  
(Remove the spaces.) Click on "Read" in the upper righthand corner to read the author's note and introduction, as well as the first chapter for free!

* * *

She finds him on the floor in front of the section on UFOs, flipping through a book about the flying, fiery visions from Ezekiel the prophet. She lifts an eyebrow and reads over his shoulder, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. ET in the Bible?

When he glances up at her, eyes bright and filled with mystery, his mouth opening to say something, her hand reaches out and strokes through his hair, cups the back of his skull like she does with Dash. The two are just so alike - mannerisms and excitement and stupidly sweet intensity.

He leans into her touch, whatever he was going to say dies out until he's just looking at her, warm and tender. He has to know - he's got to know that there's something going on.

"What've you got?" he asks.

She shakes her head, keeps the two books pressed against her. "I'll show you after we check out."

"You ready?"

"Mm, if you are."

"What narrative technique you use today?"

"You'll see," she says. "I let the moment decide."

"Ooh, impulse purchases. So very not-Kate," he laughs, still regarding her from the floor. He ducks his head from her touch to get up, stands beside her with the book open in his hands. "Hey, before we go - look at this. It's so cool."

When he leans in close to flip the page, reading aloud the caption under the photo, she presses her cheek to his shoulder, scenting paper and ink along with musk of him, an intoxicating combination.

"-that illustrates the sacred garb-"

"That says scared, Castle. Jeez. The printing quality is terrible. And look here, processed. Should be possessed - 'fathered children with earth women who _possessed_ mysterious powers' - oh."

Is everything about-?

He nudges her with his shoulder, dislodging her nice resting place, jarring her out of her own head. "So it needs a better editor-"

She gets back on track. "It needs an editor, period. If the guy can't even proofread his manuscript, why should I believe-"

"Yeah, but the concept is cool. I mean think about it like this. Every Bible story about angels and fiery chariots and stuff? It could've been aliens. That is sweet."

She rolls her eyes, pushes off from his shoulder. "Sure, Castle. I'm gonna go check out, leave you here with your crazy theories."

"Which you whole-heartedly miss. You even texted me for one this morning," he calls out after her. "Like a booty call."

"You're right. I just use you for your mind." She throws him a look over her shoulder, all scintillating smile and arched eyebrow, and he looks struck, rooted to the spot, mouth hanging open.

Good. If this pregnancy is going to make her hot for him all the time, the least she can do is make him suffer along with her.

Plus, she loves what she can do to him.

Loves that it works both ways.

* * *

The sun is brilliant; the day feels insular. It is just the two of them walking the path in Central Park so slowly, brushing against each other, her shoulder to his, arms twined.

He won't let go of her hand, won't let go of the children's book she bought for him either. Father and daughter in a magical castle by the sea. Written by the son of June Carter and Johnny Cash. Everything feels connected today - a ring of fire.

They amble through Manhattan, not stopping anywhere, not really headed anywhere, just being together. Her blood heats, flushes her cheeks; she can feel every touch of him.

Kate smiles when he brings their joined hands once more to her stomach, strokes the line of her abs down to the waistband of her jeans.

"You're amazing," he whispers, turning his head into her, nuzzling her cheek for another one of those reverent touches of his lips.

"I think maybe it's you," she murmurs around a grin. "You certainly work fast, Rick Castle."

He gives a soft little chuckle, fingers tightening through hers, swinging their hands lightly between them now. The trees overhead rustle with the breeze, throwing dappled light across their path.

She glances over at him, sees him all proud and pleased, his face alight with it. She chews on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at him, bumps his hip with her own, can't help the pressed-lip smirk.

He looks over at her, but he doesn't dim his expression whatsoever. "I suppose I'm just living up to my reputation."

She gasps on a laugh, knowing he doesn't mean it like it sounds, but not sure exactly how he _does_ mean it. "Oh really?"

His face arrests; he gives her a quick look. "Ah. I mean. You know. What you call me."

"I call you Castle."

"And babe." His eyebrows dance.

"Hardly."

He gives her that cocky smile. "Yeah, but you do call me stud."

She laughs at that, gives in with a nod of her head. "I do. And I guess, well, for that very reason."

"Oh yeah?"

"It's not exactly meant as a compliment. You're the one who looks so proud about it."

"Not a compliment?" His hand brings hers back up to her stomach again. She can tell that as soon as they get alone, he's gonna be all over her.

She could do that.

"Hm, well. Because - was I very happy about getting knocked up the first time around?"

He sighs, but it's a good sigh, a happy sigh. And that seems entirely out of proportion to-

"The first time around," he murmurs, the happiness bleeding through his voice.

She meets his eyes and grins at him. "Yeah. The first time. Different this time."

Suddenly he's caught her up in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground, growling in her ear. "Tell me again."

"Which part?"

"Any of it. All of it. I love the look on your face-"

"It's different this time," she says fiercely, overwhelmed with it, suddenly so glad he's holding on to her. "Girl or boy, doesn't matter. It's ours and I love-"

His mouth on hers keeps the words unspoken, but he takes them all, and her breath, and still hasn't put her back on the ground. She hears the wind in the trees, feels the sunlight on her skin, and she laughs into Castle's kiss.

He breaks from her, lets her slide down, takes her hand again, pulling her down the path.

His fingers move to brush around her belly button, and the answering flutter makes her heart pound.

* * *

Castle lowers himself down to the wooden bench and she follows, sitting close, hands joined. She's convinced him to put the picture book back in the bag to keep it from getting lost, but now he won't let go of the bag.

She raises her knee, foot balanced on the edge of the seat, and she feels Castle's arm settle on the back of the bench. The breeze has kicked up again, cooling them off after their walk through Central Park, and her hair snakes across her face, into her mouth.

Kate brushes it back and turns to look at Castle, finds him watching her. "Hey."

"Hey," he murmurs, fingers drawing patterns on her shoulder. "I'm thinking."

Her lips press out a smile. "Careful."

A cut of his eyes, an appreciative smirk for her joke. "Yeah. Names."

She lifts an eyebrow.

He nods. "Uh-huh."

"Like?" she prods, leaning away from him to get a look at his face.

"Like I'm not telling you."

"Meanie."

"Turn about fair play," he says lightly, no sting to it, no malignancy, just shared history. Because she chose Dashiell's name entirely without him, thinking it was hers and hers alone, and now it's his turn.

"True," she says. "Your turn; do what you like."

He half smiles, eyes lighting with child-like surprise. "Really?"

She nudges his shoulder. "Course, Castle. What did I say?"

"I thought maybe, you know, you'd want executive privilege."

"I already said no Star Wars. No stripper names. But otherwise. . ."

"Otherwise, it's anything I want?" he gasps.

Oh man, this could be _bad_ - but no, no, she promised. "My gift to you, Daddy."

His lips lift into a smile, the sounds of leaves turning, tossing in the breeze filling the space around them. "So. The Bond Girls have some great names. You think-?"

"Oh my word, Castle. If you have to _ask_, then assume it's a no."

He grins wider. "Are you sure? Because I really love Honey Ryder and-"

"No," she says, narrowing her eyes at him. "Bond girl or not, Honey Ryder is a stripper name."

He lets out a little laugh and reaches out, slides his hand over hers where she apparently has laid it over her stomach, as if protecting the girl from such a name.

"Not even Ryder?"

She glares. "Yeah, right. Do you want all the boys saying, 'Ryder, I barely even know her'? No way, Castle."

His face blanks, eyes withdrawing. "Ouch. Oh man. Suddenly I'm realizing this is a massive responsibility."

"Who named Alexis?" she says suddenly, realizing she's never asked.

"I did. Meredith had a scheduled c-section, so she's was still out. I kinda just - I think maybe I was so stunned and completely in love with her that I just - I named her without even asking."

In love with - oh. That's adorable. In love with little baby Alexis.

"You named her after yourself," she prods. "Alexander. Alexis."

He smirks a little. "Maybe so. More like I just wanted to give her some history, my history. I'd already changed my name so, you know. I couldn't see ever having the chance to have another kid-"

Kate startles, looking over at him, concerned by the way he just nonchalantly let that out. "You never - why?"

He half-shrugs. "Not with Meredith. Already there were - problems." He gives her a flicker of a grin. "Like Dash, Alexis wasn't exactly our plan."

She hums, leans in to brush a kiss to that self-deprecating mouth. "Best things aren't planned. I should know."

He gives a soft laugh. "Yeah. I thought no more kids cause I was utter crap at marriage. Well, at marriage to Meredith. You know all this."

"I do." She can't resist rubbing her thumb at his chin, the line of his jaw.

"So here's my only progeny, my only chance, right? So Alexis it was."

She feels him stroking her stomach again, shakes her head, closing her hand over his. "Cute as that story is, you're gonna hit my limit real soon."

He grins. "Too bad. Learn to live with it."

"Guess I'll have to," she mock huffs. "So long as you pick a decent name, we'll be good."

"Don't worry. I name characters all the time. I'm good at it."

"No stripper names," she warns him again, pointing her finger at him.

He snags the digit, brings her hand to his lips for a kiss. "Not for my daughter. What do you take me for?"

She smirks. "You wanted to name her Honey Ryder."

"Well, you know. There's always Xenia Onnatop-"

She claps her hand over his mouth, giving him an arch of her eyebrow. "You're going to torture me for nine months with this, aren't you?"

He ducks away. "Torture? No, no. More like mildly annoy."

She rolls her eyes.

"Don't worry. By the time I'm done mildly annoying you, Baby Kate will have the perfect name."

She presses her lips together, trails her fingers down his neck to his collarbone, watching her own hand. "Baby Kate, huh?"

"She'll be just like you."

"Hope not," she murmurs with a lift of her lips. "Hope she's just like you and Dash."

"Nope. You. You, Kate. Your beautiful eyes, your humor, the quiet way you have - so strong, so compassionate. The fierce way you love."

She bites her bottom lip, but images of a dark-haired little girl, soulful and intense, but with a brother like Dash, and a father like Rick-

He grins slowly. "Yeah, you can see her, can't you? I can too, Kate. She's amazing."

She nods and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her face into him. "She's amazing."

* * *

"You are not talking to my stomach. That's ridiculous." She shoves on his forehead with two fingers, wriggling back in their bed.

He pins her down, broad hands on her hips, presses his mouth to the plane of her stomach.

She shivers, pushes on him again. "You know what that does to me. You gotta stop. I want to go get Dash early from preschool."

Another kiss trailing fire down her stomach and she arches up, curling around him with a gasp.

"Ser-seriously, Castle. I can't. Not again."

He hums against her skin but smooths his hands down her sides, lifts up onto his elbows to give her a look. "You've never stopped me before," he says, tilting his head to study her.

"I've never-" She pushes a hand through her hair with an exasperated sigh. She doesn't want to tell him. He'll use the knowledge against her - she just knows it.

"Never what?"

"Everything is - it's all - more."

"More?"

She slides her knee up and dislodges him; he sits up in bed across from her, looking intensely curious. He's not going let this go.

"More," she sighs. "Like my - I guess it's the hormones? I don't know. Everything is - right at the surface."

"What's everything?"

She rolls her eyes and just spits it out. "Lust. Like solar flares, or hot flashes. Something. It's entirely uncontrollable."

"Are you telling me that you're hot for me all the time?" He's grinning like a cat, all sly and sure of himself.

She can't even deny it. "Basically. Remember Monday in the shower-?"

"Twice. Twice in the shower," he corrects then gapes at her. "Wait. Whoa. Hold on. Because you're pregnant? Were you like this with Dash?"

She shakes her head. "I think I wanted to be about as far from you as I could get."

He grins, all predator and lethal, leans in to snag her mouth in a rough kiss. His hand winds through her hair, holds her there, giving her the kind of kiss that makes her crazy.

When he breaks away and she finally opens her eyes, he's watching her. He breathes out suddenly, giving a little sharp laugh. "Yeah. I see. This could be good."

She shifts away from him. "So. Even though - well, it's more intense. And I need a moment to recover."

He grins wider.

"Intense huh? I really am a stud."

She reaches out and tweaks his ear, but it only makes his grin insufferable.

"All right, I'll leave you alone. For now. But I get to talk to Baby K. You can't stop me. Can she, baby? She's stuck with-"

Kate shoves his head away again, sliding out of bed, grabbing her clothes off the floor and escaping to the bathroom.

Castle follows her, leans in the doorway.

"Put some clothes on, Castle," she mutters, heading back to push him out and shut the door. "I have to use the bathroom."

When she comes back out, dressed, face washed, make-up reapplied, he's done her a favor and put his clothes back on, is finger-combing his hair. "Better, Kate? Do I need to wear a sack from now on, or maybe colors that wash me out?"

She tries rolling her eyes but the truth is so close to the surface that she can only lean in and pat his cheek, appreciative of his effort. "Better. Now let's go pick up Dash. Celebrate with our son."

"When do we tell him he's getting a little sister? Or brother? Cause you know it could be a boy. I mean, fifty-fifty."

"It's not. It's a girl," she says, stepping past him to the hallway, hearing him follow. "I can feel it. Gut instinct. Or the universe giving me a sign-"

Suddenly his hands are on her waist, his body close and hot at her back, and she stumbles to a stop, surprised at his crowding.

"Castle?" She lifts her hand to his head, her palm to his cheek, concerned.

His mouth presses into her shoulder, arms coming around her waist to cradle her. "Kate," he murmurs, and she feels his face at her neck, lashes wet. Is he crying?

"Rick," she says, trying to turn into him, but he keeps her there, another gentle kiss at her jaw, thumbs smoothing over her stomach. Not seductive, just . . . worshipful.

"Sorry, but I'm gonna be talking to your stomach and buying all the books again and getting huge stuffed animals from cool Japanese cartoons that I'll make her and Dash both watch. And, yeah, I'm going to really drive you crazy, just a warning, but it's because I'm excited, and I'm sorry, but I love her already-"

Kate twists in his grasp and wraps her arms around him, tightly, presses her body to his, sucking in a deep breath. "You're going to be too much, I know. I know. But don't worry. This life we have - it's already too much. My heart is full. Don't ever apologize for that."

His mouth descends on hers, brief, tender. "Then I take it back. Let's make your heart overflow."

She cradles his face with her hands, searches his eyes until she's sure he's paying attention.

"Yours too, Castle. Your heart too."


End file.
